


Red and Black

by 17thLord



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spoilers for episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17thLord/pseuds/17thLord
Summary: Three out of four knives find their target.One doesn't.(or, two Ceresians pick different targets and the story of Candia goes differently.)
Kudos: 10





	Red and Black

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had this idea bouncing around in my head ever since the wrap-up video. As a brief note, I'm treating things with a "Schrodinger's Gun" type-attitude, so a certain spoiler character won't be making an appearance as she's not of much importance in this universe.

There’s a part of Jet that still doesn’t think that this is a good idea.

True, she’s dying to know what exactly her mother is keeping secret, and she loves edible lingerie as much as the next person- probably more so, considering that the next person’s Liam, but still. Even as she laughs with Ruby and Liam, theorizing quietly that it’s “a magical bra” (Ruby’s guess) or “something extra sexy for Amanda while Amethar’s away” (Liam’s), she worries. The voice in her head she doesn’t want to acknowledge as “maturity” keeps saying that this is foolish. That it’s a terrible idea to leave a fortified stronghold in the middle of a war to check out what is almost certainly nothing important. That this was fine when it was causing some harmless mischief and irritating Lapin, and less so now that there had been three attempts on their lives in the last week. Jet tries to reassure herself. After all, she’s Jet Rocks, Bastard of the Realm, master swordswoman who saved the ruler of the Dairy Islands and sent a treacherous duke to the bottom of the ocean to rot. What’s the worst that could happen to them, she thinks as Ruby picks the lock and they step into the shop.

The worst that could happen is made immediately clear by the sharp, cold pain in her side.

Her body tenses as she staggers, struggling to stay standing. Distantly she hears Liam’s crossbow going off and a muffled thump. It isn’t until she hears Ruby’s mumbled, “Run,” that she realizes it was the sound of her sister collapsing. An icy feeling flows through her- whether it’s fear or water, she can’t tell- and the only thing she can think is that her sister was dying, her sister was dying, _her sister was dying-_

A cold hand on her shoulder snaps her out of her fugue. _Go,_ mouths Liam, in the split second before he and the faint outline of Ruby have vanished from her field of vision. Jet doesn’t, can’t, move for what feels like hours. Then, almost without her realizing it, her legs are moving and the familiar sights of Dulcington are passing her by, blurred by the tears running down her face. Faintly, she recognizes there’s heat on her chest. Her locket is growing warmer, turning bright red. She’s just stepped onto the bridge when it flashes blindingly then goes dark. She closes her eyes.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been running. She can barely register where she is until she collapses against one of the standing stones. Still breathing raggedly, she cries out. “I know you’re here,” she yells, hoping that whatever the Sugar Plum Fairy was she could talk to it without any magic. A soft, melodic voice comes from within the circle. “I’m sorry,” says the Fairy, truly seeming like she meant it.

“Bring her back,” Jet growls through gasps. “You want there to be magic and she- she had it, so you can- you have to-” She realizes how childish she sounds before she can even finish and the demand dies in her throat. She falls to her knees. “Please. Please, you have to.” The Fairy shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she says again, shaking her head. “I didn’t-I never wanted things to be this way. I wish that I could help. But I can’t. Not he-”

Whatever she’s about to say is interrupted by Jet swinging Flickerish wildly through the air. The Fairy disappears and rematerializes about five feet away, still within the circle, and all Jet does is leave a small scratch on a stone. “Not here,” the Fairy finishes, pitying expression unchanging. “Come to the north. There’s a temple there where I am.” She looks Jet in the eye. “Where she is.” She vanishes in a sweet-smelling cloud, and for the first time in her life, Jet is alone.

* * *

The morning has no right to be this cheerful. The sun is bright, this wind is mild, the air warm, and Jet is standing over a six-foot hole in the ground looking at her sister, wrapped in a makeshift shroud of underwear and spare sailcloth. No one has said anything in a while. At this point it’s only Jet and her mother and father gathered around the grave. Cumulous is standing respectfully off to the side and Theo has led Liam away after the latter began wailing for Preston. Some small portion of Jet wants to snap at him- how can he think about that, about a pig he lost days ago, Jet’s sister is dead, dead now, dead yesterday, _because of her_ \- but the rest of her fights it back. Bitterly, she realizes how little time anyone has had to process anything. The cathedral had almost immediately been supplanted in everyone’s minds by the ambush at sea, which immediately gave way to planning exactly how to make it back to their own castle without being murdered. The situation was hitting Jet all at once, too. The sight of Lapin being shattered by the carrot in the cathedral. The moments where, had Jet not been so cautious and so very, _very_ lucky, Candia would have lost its only ally to the stupid Pontifex. And, swimming constantly at the forefront of her mind, the nagging thought that if she had just said no, acted like an adult- acted like the woman meant to be Queen, for once in her life, then Ruby would still be alive.

Noticing motion, Jet looks up. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Theo restraining what seems to be a jellybean farmer while simultaneously motioning for Liam to put his crossbow away. That isn’t what caught her attention. No, she focuses on her mother, who’s pulled a piece of parchment out of a pocket in her dress.

“I really did love you,” her mother says, voice quivering and hollow. She lets the parchment fall, landing on Ruby’s chest. It’s a drawing of the four of them, Jet, Ruby, Amethar, and Caramelinda, drawn by Ruby during her artist phase. “I wish you could have seen that,” her mother continues. “I wish you would have listened.”

Fighting back the urge to scream, Jet turns and leaves for the ship. Partly from grief, partly from rage, partly from guilt, and perhaps just slightly out of stubbornness, Jet can’t bear to consider that any of this could be Ruby’s fault. Go back to the ship and clear your head, she thinks.

She’s halfway back when she’s stopped by her father’s hoarse bellow of, “Who are you?”

She turns. Caramelinda has knelt by the grave and is only looking up slightly. Amethar has looked away, sword drawn and staring at a hooded figure who just emerged from some of the nearby woods. Theo stands similarly at arms, and Liam is taking the opportunity to retrain his crossbow on the farmer, who has slipped face-first into the mud.

The figure steps closer. “I said, WHO ARE YOU?” her father roars again. The hooded figure- it’s a woman, Jet can see now that she’s closer- starts to speak, but Theo cuts her off.

“This,” he says, gave flicking between Amethar and the woman, “is Darknight Bitternibs, the Sugarless Warlock. The Tart Guard had been trying to apprehend her before…” He trails off, still glaring at Darknight.

“Amethar of the House of Rocks,” begins Darknight. Her voice, though raspy, is terrifying and commanding at the same time. “I come to you with dire news. Treachery lurks within your court, in the form of-”

“Calroy,” say Jet, Amethar, Theo, and Liam, nearly in unison. For a moment Darknight just stares. “…yes,” she eventually says.

“And how did you know that?” demands Theo warily, shield raised in case of a sudden attack. In response, Darknight removes her hood. Her skin is dark, nearly darker than Jet’s own, and her facial features are stern. Jet has never met her before, and yet knows exactly who she is. After all, she’s seen the woman nearly every day of her life.

It’s the same woman whose sword Jet is currently holding.

“Because he killed me,” says her aunt.

Amethar staggers back, Payment Day falling to the earth with a thud. “Rococoa?”

**Author's Note:**

> This may or may not continue based on my level of motivation and how school goes in the coming months. Hope you enjoyed regardless.


End file.
